Asparagus on my mind

Saturday

May 17, 2014 at 6:00 AM

By George Barnes TELEGRAM & GAZETTE STAFF

By the time most of you read this, I will be headed off to cover a town meeting, but doing so with conflicted feelings.

Don't get me wrong. I love town meetings, both the concept, which I think is democracy so accessible that even the most mind numbingly stupid person can participate in and enjoy, and as a journalist, the wonderful feeling I get entering a hall just before meeting is about to begin.

Entering a town meeting, I get the same feeling as when I go into work on a stormy day, a sense that it could dissolve into mayhem at any time if I am lucky.

Some of my most enjoyable moments have been at town meetings, and I don't mean the simple pleasure of listening to people making snarky comments while a good and true, and highly confused citizen, is attempting to explain his or her thoughts on the Sewer Department budget.

What I am talking about are the unexpected, sometimes shocking moments. I've seen several people thrown out of town meetings, a few led away in handcuffs. I once saw a woman burst into tears as she told the town meeting that her daughter's life would be ruined by destructive budget cuts needed because a school budget might only increase 3 percent rather than 5 percent. I've seen laborers give legal advice and lawyers trying to shout down other lawyers attempting to give legal advice.

Town meetings are a Pandora's box, and once opened, all sorts of things fall out.

But like I said, I am going with mixed feelings to a meeting today. It should be interesting, even if people stay under control. There are huge financial issues at stake. Why I have mixed feeling is that today is also the West Brookfield Asparagus and Flower Heritage Festival. It is an event about which I say every year, "Maybe I can go next year."

The festival combines two things I love: Asparagus, a green plant that I lived almost exclusively on when I lived in Granby is the 1970s, and jumping frogs. Along with asparagus vendors and great food, it has a bring-your-own jumping frog contest, something I have always wanted to see since I first began reading the writings of Mark Twain.

It dawned on me a few days ago that I will probably never attend the festival until I retire from the newspaper business. It is held at a time of year when, if I am not assigned to covering a town meeting, I would likely be assigned to cover a college graduation.

People think the newspaper business is glamourous, but in part because of my work, I have never been able to attend such wonderful festivals as the Asparagus Festival and the Worcester Food Truck Festival, and have only gotten to attend the North Quabbin Garlic and Arts Festival because I've covered it.

But the Asparagus Festival is something my wife and I always talk about attending. She now works Saturdays and misses many of the festivals, and sadly for her, even our local town meeting. We both love asparagus and grow our own in a patch that has been so successful over the years that half the crop is too large before we get to cutting it. It usually comes in just prior to the West Brookfield festival and gets us thinking about it.

As I write this Friday, I know it was expected to rain today, and heavily, and I suppose I should be thankful I will be stuck in an uncomfortable auditorium chair for up to five hours, listening to people discuss water enterprise funds, fluoride in town water, certified free cash and the price of tea in China. I will be sitting there, hopefully eating a bag of munchies, trying to resist making snarky comments, and hoping the meeting disintegrates into anarchy.

But I will also be looking wistfully at the side door, wondering if the people of West Brookfield are serving up asparagus pizza, asparagus soup, or some other wonderful take on the sacred green vegetable.

Contact George Barnes at george.barnes@telegram.com. Follow him on Twitter @georgebarnesTG.

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